THE term “First world technology/infrastructure/building, third world mentality” has been bandied around so much that it is fast becoming a cliché. It is generally agreed that a cliché is an expression that has been overused to the point of losing its original meaning or effect. Though this “Third world mentality” thing has been bugging me for some time, I have been able to resist touching on this topic. As my friend, James, said, “There is no point in flogging a dead horse”. Unfortunately, this horse is very much alive.
Last week I read about a recycling centre in Sibu being turned into a dumpsite by some very “third world” people. Thus, I can be forgiven for giving vent to this subject. In so doing I join scores of journalists who have been writing about this very disgraceful and annoying mindset of some of our people.
It is galling to note that while the world is crying out for the need protect our environment, efforts to respond likewise has been spurned. The picture that accompanied the news item about the morphing of a re-cycle centre into a dumpsite is particularly depressing. It shows a building shed with the words “Donate for charity” emblazoned on a wall. In front of this noble declaration stands a big pile of rubbish, an affront, if ever there is one. Of course, Sibu is not the only place being blighted by this selfish attitude. I know of a few similar projects in Kuching that are being made a mockery of.
The so called “third world mentality” is also evident in other ways — like drivers parking their cars over two parking spaces; like smokers puffing away merrily under a “no smoking” sign; like people (okay, skip this next line if you are having your meal) not flushing after using public toilet. The list can be like the song from the movie “Titanic” — it can “go on and on”.
Triggered off by the news item from Sibu I let off steam to my friend Lim. Lim is a mellowed and patient man.
“Be patient,” said he, somewhat condescendingly, “ours is a new country and our society is still in the stage of transition. Don’t expect to match the advanced industrial countries.”
He went on to say that level of tolerance (of low standard) is high. This high level of tolerance makes us blind to little misdeeds here and there. In fact he almost said that it is our culture. At the mention of the word “culture” my heart sunk. As the textbook on Culture 101 states, “culture has been called the way of life for an entire society. As such, it includes codes of manners, dress, language, religion, rituals, norms of behaviors and systems of belief”. The last two points particularly worry me.
One day I was dinning at a seafood restaurant by estuary of a river. There we were, sipping our after dinner cups of coffee, feeling very satisfied and soaking in the atmosphere. The food was good, the evening breeze balmy and the sunset stunning. “Aah, life is good” we all thought collectively. Then came the waiter, he promptly gathered all the left-over food, the used napkins, the coconut husks and all the remnants of our beautiful meal … and he chucked them over the rail into the sea.
“Hey, hey” said my wife, “you should not throw the rubbish into the sea.”
He looked at her quizzically, “Why not? The sea is so big.”
As none of the other customers batted an eyelid, I can assume that the throwing of rubbish into the sea was an accepted behaviour and a norm. Well, it is a behaviour based on ignorance. The sea maybe big but it is not infinite.
“What we need is education” is the usual sage remark. Yeah, right! One day I was drive behind a school bus and it was rambutan (a sweet fruit with hairy skin) season. Well, it was raining rambutan skins all the way, thrown out of the windows by those not-too-innocent but certainly ignorant kids in school uniform.
Before the readers think that I dwell too much on the negative things let me tell of an encouraging tale. Years ago, it was quite common to hear, rising above the usual chatters in a coffeeshop, the dread “Kerrr…pooi!” Yes, people used to spit anywhere and with impunity. By the 1960s the coffeeshops started to provide spittoons under the table. So at least that stopped the indiscriminating spray of germs and they tended to do it on the quiet as well. A sign of further improvement can be gauge from the fact that spittoon is a thing unheard of these days. In their place we have terse notice “No Spitting”. A sign which one can still see in some smaller towns but not in cities like Kuching, Sibu or Miri. Yes, we have been educated and in a most gentle way. It takes us 50 years to progress from “kerr. . .pooi!” to no reprimanding notices.
Singapore takes a different route to education. They believe firmly in the rod. There is a well-told joke about Singapore being a fine city. One can get fined for many things and that I presume include spitting. Unfortunately, such strong-arm tactic might change the mind but not the heart. It is said that once the residents of that fine city escape the stricture of the law they tend to gone berserk. Letting loose the primordial desire to litter liberally.
So let’s go back to our initial trigger event, the turning of the recycling centre into a dumpsite. I am afraid it is more than just a matter of ignorance, if it is, then the path forward is easy enough — education. I am afraid it is caused by something more insidious than that. It is a combination of ignorance and selfishness. Now, that is a tough nut to crack.
It in not uncommon to see pile of leaves and twigs on the side of otherwise quite neat roads. Apparently, the owners or gardeners having tidied up their little compound had adopted the attitude of “out of sight, out of mind” — just dumped the garden waste away from their immediate vicinity. The amazing thing about rubbish is that it attracts rubbish. So, if one cares to drive around one can see mound of rubbish with a forlorn sign “Do not dump rubbish here, by order of . . .” Haha.
Okay, enough of all these pessimistic notes. I found a glimmer of light, in Lachau of all places. It is a small town (just of row of shophouses) along the Kuching to Sri Aman road. There I was pleasantly surprised that the public toilet is very clean — neatly designed and carefully maintained. I stopped to congratulate the old man who manned the place.
“Yes, we wash and clean many times a day. We have many passing through visitors. I hate to have them think badly of our community.”
Someone should give that man a medal and maybe should invite him to go round the schools to give talks to our young ones about pride and motivation. You know, like that famous Malaysian who went into space.
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